Movember and a short history of facial hair

Movember-moustaches
Grandad Wilson with a circa 1920 moustache

Fourteen years ago a couple of Aussies came up with ‘Movember’ – a campaign to raise awareness of men’s health issues including prostate cancer and depression. There are many ways to take part in Movember (which lasts for the month of November). The most visible way is to join other men who are growing a Mo for 30 days and ask people to pledge support.

No better time to introduce Grandad Wilson (;left), posing in his stonemason’s workshop in rural Scotland, circa 1920s.  Now that’s what I call a moustache!

I have another, more sombre photo of Grandad in his WWI Corporal’s uniform in front of a small platoon of soldiers. Some of them are sporting a ‘Mo’, and, if I may observe, many of them are yet to make twenty years of age. I wonder how many of them made it to 20.

It was interesting to discover that from the Crimean war onwards, men in the military were forbidden to shave their upper lip. Attitude to hairy faces in the armed forces and police have changed many times since.

Moustaches were all the fashion in the early part of the 20th century, thanks in part to silent era movie stars like Charlie Chaplin and Oliver Hardy. Both comedians’ sported Toothbrush moustaches – five centimetres of hair above the lip, trimmed vertically, thus mimicking the bristles of a toothbrush. This type of Mo virtually disappeared after 1945 because of the negative association with the toothbrush moustache cultivated by the defeated Chancellor of Germany, Adolf Hitler.

Chaplin wore his Mo with pride in the 1940 satirical film, The Great Dictator. He alternately plays a Jewish barber who loses his memory and finds himself subject to tyranny, and the tyrant himself, Adenoid Hynkel. Nearly 80 years on, Chaplin’s first full-length talking film is still rated at 93% by movie review site Rotten Tomatoes.

What got me thinking about Movember and moustaches in general was the November 2 appearance of rugby league coach Brad Fitler on TV, sporting the wispy beginnings of a moustache. Taking a gentle ribbing from panel commentators on Nine’s broadcast of the triple-header league international, Fitler said, ’it’s for a good cause’.

To become a Mo Bro, you must first sign up as a clean shaven dude as of November 1 then start growing and grooming a Mo.

The movement got its start in 2003 when mates Travis Garone and Luke Slattery met up for a quiet beer in Melbourne.  The moustache was unfashionable at the time, but they found 30 blokes willing to take up the challenge. From humble beginnings, Movember has branched out into 20 different countries and raised $600 million for charities like the Prostate Cancer Foundation.

As Fitler says, it’s a good cause, raising awareness of  men’s’ health issues, symptoms of which a lot of men ignore, often at their peril.

Cancer Council statistics estimate that 1 in 7 men will be diagnosed with prostate cancer. The good news about this form of cancer, which comprises 25% of all male cancers, is that it is slow-growing, so unsurprisingly there is a 95% chance of reaching the five year mark. Unlike some forms of cancer, prostate cancer can be quickly picked up by a blood test which all men over 45 should have every year.

Movember also aims to lift awareness about depression in men and the risk of suicide, still the leading cause of death in Australians aged 15 to 44. Men are three times more likely to commit suicide than women. It has been estimated that around 60,000 Australians attempt suicide every year. So it serves a useful purpose simply by putting these issues under your nose, as it were.

Movember’s rules quite rightly stipulate no fake moustaches, beards or goatees. They also state the Mo must be kept groomed and that participants must ‘act like gentlemen’.

Movember-moustaches
Grandson Bob with a 1990s moustache

Mo’s come in all shapes and sizes. In my experience of cultivating a Chevron in the 1990s (left), they take longer than a month to become vigorous, so don’t expect too much from Movember participants (especially those who start late). Film stars have helped to give the moustache some cachet through the eras where they were prominent on the silver screen. Clark Gable enhanced his suave country gentlemen looks in Gone with the Wind. His was a Pencil moustache, also favoured by actors including Errol Flynn and David Niven, writer George Orwell and musician Little Richard. The Pencil Mo is defined by a carefully shaved gap between the two sides.

Chaplin and Hardy, as we mentioned, wore the now-taboo Toothbrush Mo. Tom Selleck sported a handsome Chevron in Magnum PI, starting a 1990s comeback of the coarse-haired, thick moustache.

Wrestler Hulk Hogan is often mentioned for his magnificent Fu Man Chu that droops down either side of his mouth. Actor Sam Elliott has worn a Fu Man Chu for so long it is now snowy white, still enhancing his twinkling smile. And what a contrast between the suave, smooth-shaven 007 and Sean Connery’s moustachioed character in The Untouchables. Musician Frank Zappa gets a mention in this list by artofmanliness.com, but on Movember’s definition it’s a fail, as he also had a ‘soul patch’ under his bottom lip.

Movember-moustaches
Frederick Nietzsche and handlebar moustache – public domain

I recommend scrolling through this list of celebrities known for their moustaches. The impressive Handlebar moustache worn by German philosopher Frederick Nietzsche (left) stands out from the crowd. Imagine kissing that! In my long experience of having a beard and mo of varying lengths, there are certain foods that men with facial hair like Frederick should avoid:

  • Spaghetti bolognaise
  • Soup (minestrone in particular)
  • Tacos
  • Icecream
  • Lamingtons
  • Pavlova and cream cakes in general

It is interesting to note that the list of hirsute blokes listed by artofmanliness.com does not include Groucho Marx or famous fictitious characters like Hercules Poirot and Boston Blackie. As it turns out, Groucho’s famous set of bristles was fake (at least in the early days), which is curious when you think how his combination of eyebrows, glasses, Mo and cigar so often feature at fancy dress parties. Likewise, Chaplin’s Toothbrush mo was painted on in the early days of films featuring his character, The Tramp, mainly to disguise his age (he was 24 in the first silent film in 1914).

Poirot’s waxed moustache (often described in Agatha Christie’s books as ‘magnificent’, ‘immense’ or ‘splendid’), is an integral part of the series.As Poirot says to Hastings (in Peril at End House): “If you must have a moustache, let it be a real moustache – a thing of beauty such as mine.”

Kenneth Branagh’s turn as Poirot in the 2017 remake Murder on the Orient Express, acknowledged the importance of Poirot’s facial hair to the character’s character. To that end, numerous movie sites let it slip that Branagh had some cosmetic help with that.

I mentioned Boston Blackie, featured in Jimmy Buffet’s song ‘Pencil-thin moustache’, a tribute to the first half of the 20th century.

Boston Blackie was a fictional character created by author Jack Boyle. A jewel thief and safecracker, Blackie became a detective in adaptations for films, radio and television. And yes, like Clark Gable, Errol Flynn and others, he had a Pencil moustache. It is not recorded whether his was au natural or faked with greasepaint.

As Buffett says of male grooming in an era ‘when only jazz musicians were smokin’ marijuana’ ‘Brylcream, a little dab’ll do ya’.

(Live at the Byron Bay Blues fest, 2017) https://youtu.be/YKn15lEBL9s

 

Odd socks stamp out mental health stigma

mental-health
Odd socks for mental health, photo supplied by www.grow.org.au

My choice to wear a matchless pair of socks today was a deliberate tribute to Mental Health Week. Odd Socks Day is just one of the many events sponsored through October to remind us that one in five Australians suffer a mental health disorder in any 12-month period.

I’d never heard of Odd Socks Day, but spotted a flyer in a café somewhere and tucked it away for future reference. It’s a national anti-stigma mental health campaign now in its fourth year, using odd socks as a metaphor that anyone can have an off day.

Despite the fact that the majority of people visiting GPs are consulting them about mental health or psychological issues, those with physical ailments are not confronted with the same level of discrimination, stigma and social shame.

Young people are particularly vulnerable to stigma. Research in 2016 uncovered some alarming facts about stigma and what an obstacle it is to people trying to recover from a mental illness. Headspace found that 26% of young people aged 12-25 would not tell anyone if they had a mental health problem and 22% would be unlikely/very unlikely to discuss it with their family doctor.

Fifty-two percent of young people (12-25) identified with having a mental health problem would be embarrassed to discuss the problem with anyone and 49% would be afraid of what others think.

The Royal Australian College of General Practitioners recently found that 62% of people (via the traditional 10-minute consultation), were seeking support for mental health disorders.

The most common mental health ailments likely to afflict people are depression, anxiety and substance abuse. Sadly, many people struggling with depression use drugs and/or alcohol to self-medicate, often with negative results.

In my former work life, the notion of taking a ‘mental health day’ was anathema to your average hard-bitten journalist, for whom the deadline reigns supreme. But in recent years the previously taboo subjects of depression and suicide are now being freely publicised and debated. The hidden cost of not properly dealing with workplace mental health problems is now an $11 billion problem for Australian commerce. There is now an argument that $1 spent on mental health services equates to a ROI (return on investment) of $2.30. So why aren’t we spending?

If there is one indicator to show how stigma and mental health ratio is shifting, it is the NRL ‘casualty ward’, which lists rugby league players and their injuries. Through the season I recall at least six players said to be having counselling for ‘psychological’ or ‘personal’ issues, the latter covering a range of non-physical traumas. Dragons half Ben Hunt spoke candidly to the media this year about seeing someone to help overcome a slump in confidence. Armchair critics (virtual bullies) did not help Ben’s situation, with a steady stream of vitriol posted on social media.

Suicide is often the end-game for people fighting ongoing battles with mental health disorders. Australia’s standardised statistics on suicide are not as high as some (11.7 per 100,000 people). Lithuania (28.6) and South Korea (26.3) head the World Health Organisation list, but Australia is nonetheless in the list of 10 countries with a suicide rate in double figures and has been for a decade.

In Australia, men are three times more likely to commit suicide (17.8 deaths per 100,000 people) than women (5.8 deaths per 100,000 people). More than 75% of all severe mental illnesses occur prior to the age of 25, and youth suicide is at its highest level in a decade.

The telling statistics revealed by the Royal Australian College of General Practitioners clearly show that the system is under untenable strain.

Author Jill Stark wrote about it in a Sydney Morning Herald opinion piece – ‘What happens when the answer to R.U.O.K is no and there’s nowhere to go?’

Stark wrote from a first person perspective, after  fronting up to a GP with what she suspected was an acute recurrence of anxiety and depression. She was handed a form to fill in – a routine step in such a consultation, so the GP can make a more objective assessment of the patient’s mental health state. As Stark related, she scored 25 ‘mild to moderately depressed’ and was prescribed medication (after first being asked if she was suicidal).

The answer was no, but on the way home Stark reflected that should she indeed want to kill herself, she’d been prescribed with something well-equipped for the job.

As Stark bluntly pointed out, the time for wristbands and hashtags has passed. Doctors need the financial support Medicare can bring by allowing longer consultations for patients with complex psychological problems.

“As a matter of urgency we must stop rationing psychological services to 10 subsidised sessions per year,” she wrote.

So that was Jill Stark, wearing her odd socks in public. Bravo.

People like Jill who are having an acute mental health crisis need expert support at least once a week for as long as the crisis lasts.

The Black Dog Institute reminds us that 45% of Australians will experience a mental illness in their lifetime. One in five mothers with children younger than two will be diagnosed with depression. At 13%, depression has the third highest burden of all diseases in Australia (burden of diseases refers to financial cost, mortality, morbidity etc).

The World Health Organisation (WHO) estimates that depression will be the number one health concerned in both developed and developing nations by 2030.

That gloomy prediction was no doubt behind the WHO’s decision in 2013 to introduce an eight-year plan to change the direction of mental health in its 194 member states. The plan’s main objectives are to:

  • strengthen effective leadership and governance for mental health;
  • provide comprehensive, integrated and responsive mental health and social care services in community-based settings;
  • implement strategies for promotion and prevention;
  • strengthen information systems, evidence and research.

Global targets and indicators were agreed upon as a way to monitor implementation, progress, and impact. The targets include a 20% increase in service coverage for severe mental disorders and a 10% reduction of the suicide rate in member countries by 2020.

These are noble aims, but as the WHO observes, it requires effective leadership and governance to implement meaningful change.

Odd Socks Day is one of the rare light-hearted efforts to raise awareness of mental health. Grow, the organisation behind the campaign, runs an in-school peer program that helps young people support each other through their issues.

The overall cost of unmanaged or mismanaged mental health in the Australian workplace is approximately $11 billion a year, according to Dr Samuel Harvey. Dr Harvey, a Black Dog Institute consultant, leads the workplace mental health research program at the school of psychiatry for the University of New South Wales. He was the lead author for research published in The Lancet which found that workplaces that reduce job strain could prevent up to 14% of new cases of common mental illness from occurring.

Quite clearly, we all need to pull up our socks, odd or not, and change our attitude. If only 35% of Australians in need are actively using mental health services, we need to do more than ask R.U.O.K.

Resources: Lifeline 13 11 14, beyondblue.org.au

FOMM back pages: